


Operation: Angel Watch

by smarshtastic



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Age Difference, Blackwatch Era, F/F, First Love, Hurt/Comfort, Love at First Sight, M/M, Pining, Sexuality Crisis, Teen Angst, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-08
Updated: 2016-12-08
Packaged: 2018-09-07 06:30:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8787241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smarshtastic/pseuds/smarshtastic
Summary: Privately, Fareeha calls it Operation Angel Watch. If anyone (read: Jesse) knew that that was what she called it, she would die of embarrassment.The mission: learn everything there is to know about the new recruit.It doesn’t go well.---In which Fareeha Amari harbors a crush on Dr. Angela Ziegler for many, many years.





	

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on [tumblr](http://wictorwictor.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/smarshtastic).

Fareeha frowns in thought, brow furrowed. There’s a right move here - she just doesn’t know what it is.

“I don’t got all day, darlin’,” Jesse drawls, leaning back in his seat at the canteen table. Concentration broken, Fareeha tears her eyes away from her cards to make a face at the older boy. She had started to think of him like a brother. He toes her chair with the tip of one of his ridiculous boots, pushing it ever so slightly away. An  _ annoying _ older brother she had never asked for. 

“Yeah, I’m sure you have to go make eyes at Uncle Gabe or something,” she shoots back. Embarrassment crosses Jesse’s face for a brief moment before the usual cocky smirk resettles on his lips.

“You’re stalling.”

“I’m not!”

“Then spread ‘em.”

Fareeha scrunches up her face again and finally fans her cards down on the table between them. She watches Jesse’s face, but his expression doesn’t change.

“Four of a kind?”

“Is that a question?”

Fareeha huffs. “Four of a kind.”

“Not bad, not bad,” Jesse nods slowly. He takes one card from the end of his hand and deliberately moves it into the middle. “Not bad at all.”

“Now you’re stalling,” Fareeha says. Jesse looks up and a grin spreads across his face. Fareeha feels her heart sink. He lays his hand down on the table.

“Royal flush,” he says. Fareeha slumps in her seat, defeated.

“I swear you’re cheating!”

“Now that just wouldn’t be fair, would it? I’m supposed to be teaching you here,” Jesse says, helping himself to the little scraps of paper they were using in lieu of chips. Fareeha watches him sweep the pile away.

“You’ve won every game.”

“Aw, don’t be a sourpuss. I won’t make you clean the latrines or anything. Maybe just polish my belt buckle,” Jesse grins. Fareeha rolls her eyes.

“I’m going to tell Uncle Gabe you’re being mean.”

A slightly stricken look passes over Jesse’s face. Fareeha immediately feels bad, but is distracted by a sudden boom of laughter from her Uncle Reinhardt at the entrance to the canteen. She and Jesse both turn to see what caused the ruckus. Fareeha spots a slender, blonde young woman standing with her uncle. She can’t be much older than Jesse, probably, and she’s dressed in the new recruit uniform, science division. She’s laughing too; bright eyes and an open smile. She practically has a halo around her golden head, and Fareeha suddenly, distinctly, forgets to breathe.

Jesse kicks her under the table.

“Now hold on there,” he murmurs. Fareeha pulls her gaze away from the young woman to see Jesse raising his eyebrows knowingly at Fareeha. Her cheeks go hot and she  _ really _ wants to run and hide. He grins at her.

“Shut  _ up _ ,” she hisses.

“They’re coming this way.”

“Shut up!”

Fareeha scrambles up but Uncle Reinhardt has already spotted them and he’s bringing the new recruit over to their table. Jesse leans a little forward in his seat, still trying to act casual but wanting to witness Fareeha’s embarrassment.

“And this young lady is Fareeha!” Reinhardt booms. “You met her mother, Ana Amari, when you signed in. Fareeha, meet our newest recruit - Angela Ziegler.  _ Doctor _ Angela Ziegler.”

Dr. Ziegler smiles sunnily at Fareeha, who feels very light headed all of a sudden. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Fareeha.”

“You - you too,” Fareeha manages to stammer out. She can practically feel Jesse smirking behind her.

“Dr. Ziegler joins us from Switzerland. She’s an expert in applied nanobiology…” Uncle Reinhardt is saying more things, but Fareeha can’t concentrate on the words. She nods dumbly, trying not to stare at the young doctor. The feeling in her chest is altogether unfamiliar. Her heart feels too big and her lungs too small and it is absolute agony trying to stand still and not make a complete fool of herself.

A hand on her shoulder nearly makes her jump out of her skin. Fareeha looks up to see Jesse standing next to her. He even took off his stupid hat.

“Jesse McCree. Pleased to meet you, miss,” he says, charming as ever. Dr. Ziegler laughs again. Fareeha wonders if she ever frowns.

“McCree joined our special forces team not too long ago. I’m certain you’ll be seeing him in the infirmary one of these days,” Uncle Reinhardt says. Jesse makes a face.

“Commander Reyes looks out for his team,” he says. Fareeha catches the twinkle in her uncle’s eye.

“Of course,” Uncle Reinhardt says. “Come, Dr. Ziegler. Let me show you the rest of the base.”

“It was nice meeting you both,” Dr. Ziegler says as Uncle Reinhardt leads her away. Fareeha feels a strong urge to follow her, but Jesse still has his hand on her shoulder. He lets out a low whistle as soon as Dr. Ziegler and Uncle Reinhardt are out of earshot.

“You got it bad, huh?” Jesse asks. Fareeha turns and shoves him. It takes him by surprise and he stumbles back a step, but only laughs. “Join the club, princess.”

=-=-=

That night, Fareeha finds herself lying awake in bed and thinking about the young doctor. How bright and pretty she is; how her smile lights up her whole face; how her laugh sounds like music. Fareeha can’t sleep. An unfamiliar feeling is settling on her chest and she doesn’t quite know what to do about it. 

=-=-=

“Jesse?”

He grunts in response but doesn’t stop doing sit ups. Fareeha, sitting on his feet to keep them from moving, hesitates before she speaks again. When she does, her voice is small.

“When did you realize you liked boys?”

Jesse stops mid-sit up and makes a face. He leans back on his hands.

“I dunno,” he says after a moment. “Guess I just always sort of knew.”

“Always?”

He shrugs. “Guess so. It wasn’t ever a thing.”

Fareeha goes quiet, thoughtful. Jesse nudges her gently.

“It ain’t a thing, Fareeha,” he says. She looks up at him and nods, still unsure but feeling slightly reassured.

=-=-=

Fareeha peeks around the door. She knows better than to sneak up on Uncle Gabe, so she’s always extra careful. He’s sitting at a table, cleaning his guns. She slides into the room cautiously.

“Uncle Gabe?” she asks. He looks up, shoulders going tense before he spots her. He relaxes and beckons her closer.

“Come on in, Fareeha,” he says. “Get bored of following McCree around ?”

“No,” she says, clamoring up into a seat next to him. Uncle Gabe glances at her but goes back to cleaning his guns.

“Well I’m glad to have the company. You’re much better at getting into the little spots,” he says, handing her a small handgun, a rag and gun oil. Fareeha picks up the rag and mimics the familiar motions that her uncle had taught her. It’s soothing, even though Fareeha is feeling jittery. The two of them work in comfortable silence for a few minutes.

“Uncle Gabe?”

“Mm?”

“Do you like boys?”

Uncle Gabe pauses, just for a moment. “I do.”

“Do you like girls?”

“Not in the way I like boys.”

“Like Uncle Jack?”

A sigh. “Uncle Jack is a boy, yes.”

“That you like?”

“As a coworker. Sometimes.”

“But you used to like him more than that, right?”

Another sigh. “What are you trying to get at, Fareeha?”

“Do you like Jesse like that? Like you used to like Uncle Jack?”

It takes Uncle Gabe so long to respond that Fareeha has to look up to make sure he heard her. He seems to be concentrating very hard on his gun.

“Uncle Gabe?”

“Did Jesse put you up to this?”

“Jesse?”

“ _ McCree _ ,” Uncle Gabe corrects himself, exasperation creeping into his voice.

“He didn’t! I came ‘cause I wanted to ask you a question.”

“Well that’s not a question I want to answer, Fareeha.”

“It’s not the one I was gonna ask,” Fareeha says, suddenly shy. She hunkers down in her seat and busies her hands with the handgun. Uncle Gabe flicks his gaze up to look at Fareeha.

“Alright. Shoot.”

Fareeha hesitates, having lost some of her nerve. She rubs at the same spot on the little handgun until Uncle Gabe reaches over and takes it away from her. He sets it down on the table deliberately and gives her a concerned look.

“What’s wrong, Fareeha?”

She slips her hands under her thighs, fidgeting in her seat. Uncle Gabe waits; he’s patient. He does that thing where he just lets the silence stretch on and on and on until you feel obligated to say something just so that the room isn’t so  _ loud _ with the quiet.

“I think I like girls,” Fareeha says, her voice barely above a whisper. Uncle Gabe lets out a breath that might be a laugh. Fareeha frowns.

“No - no, don’t make that face,” he says quickly. He pushes the guns aside and puts a hand on her shoulder. She hunches a little. “Listen,  _ mija _ . There’s nothing wrong with liking girls or boys or both or neither. Whatever makes you happy.”

Fareeha peeks up at him. “I don’t feel very happy.”

Uncle Gabe gives her a rueful little smile. “Yeah. I know that feeling too.”

Fareeha screws up her face. “Does it get better?”

“Which part?”

“The part where my chest feels too small?” Fareeha taps her chest right over her heart. Uncle Gabe leans over and scoops Fareeha up out of her chair and into his lap. She’s too old for this, too big for this, but she snuggles into his chest anyway, tucking her head under his chin. He hugs her close.

“That part always sucks. Sorry,  _ mija _ . We’ll get you through it.”

Fareeha nods. Her ear is pressed up against his chest so that she can hear his heartbeat like she used to when she was small. It’s soothing. She feels a little better.

After a long moment of quiet -

“So, who is she?”

“ _ T _ _ í _ _ o _ !” she groans, pushing at him. Laughing, he gathers her back up to his chest.

“Alright, alright! I won’t ask!”

=-=-=

Privately, Fareeha calls it Operation Angel Watch. If anyone (read: Jesse) knew that that was what she called it, she would die of embarrassment.

The mission: learn everything there is to know about the new recruit.

It doesn’t go well.

Even though Fareeha was raised among spies and military operatives, her own skills don’t exactly fall under the “covert operations” banner. She doesn’t really know what she’s doing or what she’s looking for. On top of that, she doesn’t see Dr. Ziegler for an entire month when she goes off for new recruit training.

After a few failed attempts (including a botched attempt at finding Dr. Ziegler’s sleeping quarters - her mother was  _ not  _ pleased to say the least), Jesse finally notices something’s up. He corners Fareeha in one of the off-duty lounges, where she had been moping about and feeling sorry for herself all afternoon.

“What’s eating you, huh?” Jesse asks, flopping down on a chaise lounge and munching on an apple. He puts his ratty boots up on the seat. Fareeha gives him a pointed look that she learned from her mother, but Jesse pretends not to see it. She huffs, folding her arms over her chest.

“Nothing,” she says defensively. He pushes the brim of his hat up so she can see his raised eyebrows.

“Sure looks like a whole lotta nothing,” he says.

“Nothing!”

“Is nothing your code word for a certain young doctor?”

“Shut UP!” Fareeha says, slightly panicked. Did Jesse know about her failed operations? His expression is infuriatingly unreadable; Fareeha is pretty sure that his face is stuck in that dumb smirk forever.

“Look, you’re goin’ about this all wrong,” Jesse says, sitting up properly. Fareeha eyes him suspiciously, but doesn’t say anything. He presses on. “You wanna get to know her, you gotta spend some time with her.”

“I know that,” Fareeha sniffs. “I’m not totally clueless.”

“Nah, just a little clueless,” he laughs over Fareeha’s growl. “Listen, princess. Moonin’ around up here ain’t gonna do you any good.”

“Well I can’t just hang around the infirmary,” she says.

“Why not?”

“That’s weird!”

“Not any more weird than you trying to get into her bunk,” he says. Fareeha looks horrified. Jesse puts his hands up quickly. “Your mom told me. She was worried about you. For all the wrong reasons, as it turns out.”

Fareeha flops onto the chaise lounge next to Jesse. He loops an arm around her shoulders and pulls her in. He smells vaguely of gun oil and gunpowder under his usual musty leather smell. She resists then presses her face into his shoulder.

“This is stupid,” Fareeha mumbles, muffled. He chuckles. She can feel it rumble in his chest.

“Yeah, well. We never asked for this, huh? Bein’ in love sucks when you can’t do a damn thing about it,” he says. Fareeha picks her head up to peek at him. Jesse’s not looking at her now, he’s staring out the window. She rests her cheek against his chest.

“How do we make it stop?”

“Can’t, I’m afraid.”

Fareeha makes a little frustrated noise. Jesse chuckles again.

“I know, princess. I know. You want me to help?”

“What are you going to do?”

“Prime the pump, yeah? Start planting little seeds so she’ll think it was her idea all along,” Jesse says. Fareeha squints.

“Does that work?”

“Dunno until we try, right?”

“I guess,” she says doubtfully. She hesitates for a moment. “You don’t think…”

“What?”

“You don’t think she’s too old for me?”

Jesse laughs outright and gives her a squeeze. “Princess, you’re askin’ the wrong guy.”

=-=-=

Jesse does not make things better. Neither of them have any good excuses to hang around the science division to begin with, and the infirmary is mostly off-bounds unless you’re sick or hurt. Jesse offers to trip and hit his head to give Fareeha an in, but she dismisses the idea as too risky.

Still, she learns some things.

She learns that Angela -  _ Angela _ \- is a rotten morning person. She isn’t nearly as pleasant as she usually is until she’s had her first cup of coffee for the day.

She learns that Angela hated recruit training; not because of the physical demands (Angela is a runner), but because she had to endure combat training. Angela hates the idea of ever doing harm to anyone.

She learns that Angela adores chocolate, but only if it’s Swiss.

Her favorite color is yellow.

She keeps a Pachimari plush on her desk in the lab.

None of this information does anything to quell the ache in Fareeha’s chest.

=-=-=

A few months after Dr. Zeigler first arrived at the Swiss base, Jesse gets deployed on a mission with Blackwatch. Fareeha goes to see him off, hanging back at the end of the transport bay. She hates when they all leave; the base gets quiet and boring. She feels left out.

“Hey,” Jesse says, coming up behind her. He looks different in his Blackwatch uniform - older, more serious. It’s weird, but it suits him in a funny way too. He plops his ratty cowboy hat on Fareeha’s head and it immediately slips down over her eyes.

“How long are you going to be gone?” Fareeha asks, pushing the hat back up her forehead.

“Dunno. Keep an eye on my hat for me, would ya?”

Fareeha watches their shuttles take off and spends the rest of the week mooning about the base. She keeps an eye on Jesse’s hat and contemplates plausible excuses for peeking into the infirmary, but - without Jesse around to give her a push - Fareeha doesn’t dare act on any of her half-formed plans.

She buys a bar of expensive Swiss chocolate with her pocket money but loses her nerve and ends up hiding it in the bottom of a drawer in her bedroom.

The Blackwatch mission goes wrong. Fareeha overhears the flurry of activity from outside of the command center and makes a beeline for the hangar before any of the adults decide what to do. The hangar doors are already opening by the time Fareeha gets there. She didn’t hear a lot of what her mother and Uncle Jack were saying, but she knows there were injuries.

A slim figure, clad all in white, rushes past Fareeha to meet the shuttle as it lands. It takes Fareeha a moment before she realizes that it's Angela - Dr. Ziegler, Fareeha corrects herself mentally.

The doors of the shuttle open and Uncle Gabe pokes his head out, his face pinched and stormy.

“Medic?” he barks. Fareeha takes a step forward to get a better look when Dr. Ziegler pushes forward.

“Right here,” the doctor says. She looks like an angel to Fareeha, haloed by the light streaming in through the open hangar door.

Uncle Gabe finally steps out of the shuttle, supporting a bloodied Jesse with an arm under his shoulder. His uniform is torn across the chest and one of his legs is dragging behind him. One eye is practically swollen shut.

“Jesse!” Fareeha shrieks, darting forward.

“Damn it, Fareeha,” Uncle Gabe swears but Fareeha has already thrown her arms around Jesse’s middle.

“Hey darlin’,” Jesse says, his words slurring a little. He's having trouble keeping his head up and he smells like explosives and stale blood. Fareeha squeezes him a little harder than she means to and Jesse makes a small gurgling noise.

“Fareeha!” Uncle Gabe says sharply.

A gentle hand touches Fareeha’s shoulder.

“Let me help him,” Dr. Ziegler says softly. She pries Fareeha’s arms away from Jesse, and it only works because Fareeha wasn’t expecting it. She looks up at the young doctor, trying to keep the tears from coming.

“Please,” Fareeha says. Dr. Ziegler touches her cheek with her other hand and nods.

“I will.”

Fareeha steps back and then Uncle Gabe and Dr. Ziegler whisk Jesse away to the infirmary. She stands rooted to the spot in the hangar, even as the other Blackwatch operatives filter out of the shuttle.

=-=-=

That night, Fareeha sneaks out of bed and into the infirmary. She finds Jesse’s bed immediately. He’s asleep, or unconscious - she can’t tell which. Dr. Ziegler cleaned him up, but he looks all bruised and sallow under the dim infirmary lights. Fareeha feels the tears building up again but she swallows it down. Very carefully, she reaches out and sets Jesse’s stupid cowboy hat back on his head.

“What is that?” a voice behind her asks. Fareeha jumps and turns to find Dr. Ziegler standing a few feet away.

“It’s his hat,” Fareeha manages to say. Dr. Ziegler doesn’t look mad, at least. “It’s his favorite.”

That actually gets a smile out of the doctor. Fareeha relaxes a hair. “Is he going to be okay?”

“He will be, yes,” Dr. Ziegler nods. Fareeha bites the inside of her cheek to keep the tears from spilling over. She looks back at Jesse so she doesn’t embarrass herself. The silence stretches on between them.

“How old are you?” Fareeha blurts out finally. The color rises to her cheeks again. Where did  _ that _ come from? She’s grateful for the dim lights.

“Seventeen,” Dr. Ziegler says, still smiling.

“Jesse too,” Fareeha says.  _ Nice save _ . “He’s kind of like my older - “

A noise at the door makes both of the young women turn. Fareeha blinks when she realizes it’s her Uncle Gabe standing there with a deer-in-the-headlights sort of look. He clearly wasn’t expecting to see anyone in the infirmary at this hour. 

“Uh,” Uncle Gabe says.

“Jesse’s gonna be okay, Uncle Gabe,” she says, trying her best for an innocent look. It’s ruined by the slow grin spreading over her face. She wishes she had a camera. “Dr. Ziegler fixed him.”

Uncle Gabe clears his throat. “Right. Yeah. Sure.”

“You’re welcome to stay for a while, if you’d like, Commander,” Dr. Ziegler says.

“Just looking for a status report,” Uncle Gabe says gruffly. He turns on his heel and disappears again. Fareeha can’t help the giggle that bubbles up. Dr. Ziegler raises her eyebrows at her.

“They like each other. You know -  _ like _ like each other,” Fareeha says by way of explanation. “But they haven’t told each other, I don’t think.”

“I don’t think Commander Reyes expected to see us here,” Dr. Ziegler says.

“He didn’t even make me go back to bed,” Fareeha says with another little laugh.

“I won’t tell,” Dr. Ziegler promises, smiling again. Fareeha feels her heart skip a beat. She ducks her head to hide her own smile.

=-=-=

“He was  _ here _ ?” Jesse asks, incredulous. He looks a little worse for wear, but better than he did when he first came back; just scraggly facial hair and tired eyes. He’s refused to take his dumb hat off. Fareeha, perched on the end of his bed, nods vigorously. They’re each eating a bowl of Ana’s sweet rice pudding that she had made special for Jesse.

“I came to check on you and Angela - “

“ _ Who _ ?”

“Dr. Ziegler - “

“You’re on a first name basis now, huh? How long was I out for?”

“Shut up!”

“Are you two dating now?”

“Do you want me to get Uncle Gabe back in here?”

“Fareeha!”

=-=-=

Later, Fareeha walks into the infirmary to find Uncle Gabe sitting in a chair close to Jesse’s bed. Jesse’s awake, head tilted back on his pillow, eyes a little glazed, but smiling. She can tell he’s hamming it up, but Uncle Gabe doesn’t seem to care. Uncle Gabe leans forward in his seat, his hands just brushing the edge of the bed by Jesse’s hands. She hangs back, but the two of them don’t notice her. They only have eyes for each other.

It makes Fareeha’s chest ache.

A noise behind her makes her turn. Angela is standing there too. She meets Fareeha’s eyes and smiles. She puts a finger to her lips, winks, and slips away. Fareeha manages not to faint.

=-=-=

Eventually, Jesse’s given a clean bill of health and released from the infirmary. Even without an excuse to visit - and in spite of Jesse’s relentless teasing - Fareeha keeps stopping by the infirmary. Angela is soft and gentle and kind, always ready with a laugh. She’s wickedly smart but never condescending. She’s funny, too. She’s beautiful; she practically glows, shedding light all around her. Fareeha hangs around the infirmary in hopes that some of Angela’s light will fall on her. It’s a crush that keeps on building, filling Fareeha up until her chest feels like it’s going to burst.

Angela never shows any indication she notices or reciprocates. As time goes on, the lack of acknowledgement wears on Fareeha. Her teenage hormones take hold and it’s hard to rationalize herself out of the crush. She resigns herself to it. It sort of settles in the pit of her stomach, an ever-present weight that sometimes twinges when touched just right.

The bar of chocolate still sits in the bottom of her drawer.

Fareeha finds it one day and the flood of feelings comes crashing over her once again. She screws up her face and swallows it down. It was nothing more than a teenage crush - one that would never be reciprocated. So why was she keeping the chocolate?

Armored with a new-found resolve, Fareeha lets herself into the infirmary. Angela is bent over her work bench, her hair tied back to keep it out of her face. Fareeha reminds herself not to be swayed. She holds out the bar of chocolate. 

“I found this and thought you might like it,” she says. Angela looks up and spots the bar of chocolate. Her face lights up. Fareeha feels her stomach flip over.  _ Oh no _ . 

“For me?” Angela asks, eyes flicking up to Fareeha’s face. Fareeha forgets to speak for a moment. 

“Uh - yeah.”

“This is my favorite,” Angela gushes. She takes the proffered bar of chocolate, her fingertips brushing Fareeha’s hand. Fareeha knows she’s imaging the sparks that trail over her skin, dance up her veins, and settle, warm and flickering, in her heart. Angela is smiling at her, eyes scrunched and bright. It’s all Fareeha can do to return the smile. 

“I’m glad you like it.”

“Thank you, Fareeha.”

Fareeha nods dumbly, leaving Angela and the bar of chocolate behind. A whole slew of bad words Jesse taught her flit through her head. She’s doomed. 

=-=-=

Years pass. Fareeha decided sometime in the last year that she wanted to join Overwatch. The prospect had always been in the back of her mind. Her mother doesn’t approve, of course; the hope is that, by the time Fareeha is of age, the world won’t need their organization any longer. She argued bitterly with her mother about it, but both of the Amari women are nothing if not stubborn.

“Absolutely not,” Ana says flatly. She’s barely paying attention to her now-gangly daughter as she follows her mother around the base.

“There’s still work to be done, mama,” Fareeha protests. Ana won’t look at her.

“You’re still too young,” Ana says. She moves deftly around Fareeha, even though she’s doing her best to get in her mother’s way.

“I’m almost seventeen! If I start learning now, if I start training - “

“Fareeha,” Ana says sharply, wheeling around on to level a severe look at her daughter. The effect is slightly diminished since Fareeha has outgrown her mother, at least in the height department. Ana’s voice is steady, but there’s a worried look in her eye. “It is my job to protect you - to protect the world. I cannot do either of those things if I’m worrying about your wellbeing.”

“We have the best people here - I could learn so much - “

“No.”

“Why would you teach me to defend myself if you don’t want me to use it!”

“Enough. That’s final.”

Jesse, on the other hand, is completely gung-ho. He sneaks Fareeha into the practice arena during off hours and teaches her everything he learned from Overwatch, and some from the Deadlock Gang. Fareeha sneaks around behind her mother’s back, devastated that she doesn’t have her approval, but too full of teenage rebellion and determination to stop. She makes plans to join the Egyptian Army when she comes of age. If she can prove herself in the army, it might be enough to change her mother’s mind. Then she could join Overwatch.

Maybe Uncle Gabe would even let her join Blackwatch. 

She’s seventeen years old and sparring with Jesse in the practice arena. Jesse pretends he doesn’t see Uncle Gabe watching them from the entrance platform.

“You’re letting me win,” Fareeha says to an immobile Jesse, stunned with one of his own grenades. She ducks and rolls into cover before Jesse recovers.

“I don’t let anyone win, princess,” he says, lobbing one of his own grenades behind Fareeha’s cover. She scrambles away just in time.

“Then you’re showing off for Uncle Gabe,” she says. She takes aim and fires her practice gun at Jesse. He rolls out of the way.

“I’m not!”

“Are too! I know you’ve been sleeping in his room,” Fareeha says. Jesse goes pink under his scruff.

“You’re a little sneak.”

“Does he make you happy?”

“Fareeha!”

“Please, it’s the worst kept secret of Overwatch.”

That makes Jesse laugh. She peeks up over the safety of her cover to grin at him.

“You got me there, darlin’,” he says. He tosses a grenade between his hands. “I’d run if I were you.”

He lobs the grenade at Fareeha as she streaks off. Fareeha doesn’t remember the rest of it.

=-=-=

The light is too bright and Fareeha is having trouble focusing. Angela’s face floats above her. She’s haloed by golden light, her brow furrowed in concern.

“You’re beautiful,” Fareeha mumbles. She thinks she can hear Jesse laughing at her. A cool hand touches her cheek and Fareeha can’t help but lean into the gentle touch.

“Just relax, Fareeha,” Angela says. Fareeha feels a pinch in her arm and she can’t fight the heaviness that seeps into her bones. She lets her eyes slide closed.

=-=-=

When Fareeha wakes up again, her head is pounding. Opening her eyes is a huge effort. It must be late; the infirmary lights are dimmed but the light still hurts her eyes. She tries to lift a hand to block out the light. She ends up just letting her arm fall back to the infirmary bed.

“Don’t move, Fareeha.”

Fareeha closes her eyes again, smiling. “My angel.”

“Sorry to disappoint, princess,” Jesse says. Fareeha reopens her eyes and turns her head. It hurts. Jesse is sitting right next to her bed, face pinched and worried.

“What…?”

“Practice grenades malfunctioned,” he says, his expression twisting up with guilt. “Sent you flying clear across the range.”

“Oh,” Fareeha says, blinking. She doesn’t remember any of it.

“Your angel said you’re gonna be okay. But you gotta concussion and some other stuff,” Jesse leans forward as he speaks, taking Fareeha’s hand in both of his and squeezing. It sort of hurts but she doesn’t let go.

“Mom’s gonna be pissed,” Fareeha says.

“She already gave me a dressing down. Gabe too.”

Fareeha smiles faintly. “He can’t stay mad at you.”

“Your mom can.”

“Uncle Gabe’ll bring her around.”

“Maybe.”

He looks away. Fareeha squeezes his hand weakly.

“Just get some sleep,” he says gruffly. He hunkers down in his seat, tugging his hat down over his eyes. He doesn’t let go of her hand.

Fareeha must have drifted off at some point because she wakes up to the sound of her mother’s scolding Arabic. Her voice is getting louder, angrier. Fareeha cracks open an eye to see who her mother is yelling at, and sees Jesse standing by the side of her bed, hat in his hands, head bowed and taking the berating - even though she’s pretty sure he understands none of it. It’s probably for the better. Ana Amari is not known for mincing words.

“That’s enough,” a voice says sharply at the door. Fareeha’s mother stops shouting and turns. Fareeha dares to crack open an eye to look too. Angela stands at the doorway, hands on her hips. “Fareeha needs to rest. She doesn’t need to hear the shouting.”

“My apologies, ma’am,” Jesse says. He glances at Fareeha and notices she’s awake. He blinks and mouths, “ _ Sorry _ .”

“This isn’t done, McCree,” Ana warns, shaking a finger at Jesse. “Strike Commander Morrison will have words with you.”

“Mom, he didn’t do it on purpose,” Fareeha says. Ana rounds on her daughter.

“We will have words too, Fareeha. You know better than to go behind my back,” she says. “Listen to the doctor.”

Ana leaves, shooting Jesse a withering look as she goes.

“I better get a move on,” he says, shuffling on the spot. “I’ll come visit again later.”

Jesse sets his hat back on his head and sees himself out, shoulders hunched and radiating guilt. Angela touches his arm as he moves past her.

“I’ll let you know when Captain Amari isn’t around,” Angela says. Jesse blinks, nods, and tips his hat.

“Thanks.”

He leaves and Angela comes over to the side of Fareeha’s bed. Fareeha feels her heart rate pick up and - to her great embarrassment - the beeping of the monitors by her bed speeds up in turn. Angela glances at the monitors.

“S-sorry,” Fareeha stammers.

“Are you okay?”

Fareeha nods then winces. Angela puts a cool hand on her cheek. Fareeha’s breath catches. Angela’s eyes scan her face, brow knitting together slightly.

“You had us all worried.”

“Sorry,” Fareeha says again, slightly breathless. She reaches up with difficulty and puts her hand over Angela’s. Angela doesn’t move her hand.

“You - ah. You had quite a - a bump on the head,” Angela says, uncharacteristically stumbling over her words. The color rises to Fareeha’s cheeks with the dread in her throat. What did she say when she was out?

“I didn’t mean -”

“You didn’t mean it?”

Fareeha hesitates. “Mean what?”

“You said - you called me an angel.”

Fareeha is pretty sure she has to die now. There’s no other options. There’s a hole somewhere she can just jump into or maybe she could just dig one and maybe everyone would forget about her and everything that ever happened -

She tries to pull her hand away, but Angela takes it between both of her own. Her bright blue eyes are piercing as they search Fareeha’s face. She almost looks confused, like she doesn’t understand. Fareeha swallows thickly and wishes that she was unconscious again.

“Did I… say anything else?”

To Fareeha’s dazed amazement, pink spreads over Angela’s cheeks. The young doctor ducks her head.

“A few things. Jesse - um.”

She’s going to have to kill Jesse.

“I didn’t mean it,” Fareeha blurts. She immediately regrets it. “I mean, um. I hit my head - and - and -”

Angela is letting go of Fareeha’s hands now, avoiding her eyes. Fareeha blinks as she pulls away. Did she do something wrong?

“I’ll let you rest, Fareeha,” Angela says. Before Fareeha can formulate a response, Angela is already walking away. She’s left alone in her bed, blinking up at the ceiling and wondering what she did.

=-=-=

Jesse visits early in the morning. Fareeha slept poorly and was just managing to get to sleep when Jesse settles in next to her. She cracks open an eye.

“It’s early,” she says.

“Wanted to come before your mom got to me. Or you,” Jesse says. He leans forward in his seat. “How’re you doin’?”

Fareeha gives him a half shrug and looks away. Jesse frowns.

“Gabe’s looking into why the grenades went haywire,” he says. “Your mom shut down the practice arena until he figures out what happened. Too much of a risk otherwise.”

Fareeha doesn’t say anything again. Jesse inches forward, anxious.

“Are you pissed at me, Fareeha? You can say. I won’t be mad or nothin’. I get it - hell, this might finally be the thing they drum me outta Overwatch for,” Jesse says. Finally, Fareeha looks at him.

“I think I did something wrong,” she says, her voice small.

“Aw, hell, this ain’t your fault - it’s mine, if anything -”

“No, I mean -” her voice breaks. “I mean with Angela.”

Jesse sits back in his seat. “What happened?”

“I guess I said some stuff while I was hurt and - and - “

Jesse waits but Fareeha can’t get the words out. He grabs her hand and squeezes it.

“Look, you can’t be held liable for anything you say when you’re hurt. She knows that,” Jesse says, being all reasonable and calm. Fareeha chews on her lip.

“I guess.”

“Don’t worry too much. We’ll set it to rights.”

=-=-=

Fareeha sees very little of Angela throughout the rest of her stay in the infirmary. She is fairly certain that the doctor was avoiding her, in spite of Jesse’s reassuring words. She had to have said something that offended Angela. She’s ruined it.

Ana takes her daughter back to their quarters in silence. She’s still angry, upset. Fareeha knows the silent treatment well, but can’t rouse herself to care about it. She ensconces herself in the window seat with a blanket and the Amari quarters ring with the silence.

This goes on for about two days before Ana says anything.

“Fareeha,” Ana begins. Fareeha glances up from where she’s staring vacantly out the window. Her mother’s expression is clearly worried. “Should I bring you back to the doctor?”

Fareeha feels her whole chest seize up. She shakes her head vigorously even though it makes her dizzy. “No. Please no.”

Ana blinks. Carefully, still aware of the tension between them, Ana sits by Fareeha’s feet on the edge of the window seat.

“You understand why I’m upset, don’t you?”

Fareeha shakes her head again, then nods. “Yeah - no. I mean, it’s not that.”

Ana blinks. “It’s not?”

Fareeha hunkers further down in her blanket (stolen, a long time ago, from Jesse; it’s scratchy and rough, but the pattern looks like the stupid ponchos he wears in his off time).

“I’m fine. I get that I’m grounded or whatever,” Fareeha mumbles. Ana doesn’t exactly know what to do. She pats Fareeha’s blanketed foot as she gets up.

“Just rest, Fareeha.”

=-=-=

Life goes back to normal, more or less. Angela continues to avoid Fareeha, and Fareeha mourns the loss. It stings at first, fades to a dull ache, and then, somehow disappears from the forefront of her mind.

It helps that Fareeha is distracted. The fighting with her mother just gets worse and worse. She goes back to training with Jesse behind her back. Uncle Gabe takes her aside to chastise her.

“You’re doing more harm than good, Fareeha,” he says. “Think of everything your mother’s built for you.”

“All I want to do is to help her,” Fareeha shoots back. Gabe can’t reason with her and Jesse stops trying to be the mediator. Jesse’s on Fareeha’s side anyway.

Sometime before Fareeha’s eighteenth birthday, she and Ana have an explosive fight. It happens to coincide with a time that’s particularly rough for Overwatch. One of the terror organizations they’re working against has started making threats against their bases. Nothing’s happened, but the tensions in the Swiss base are particularly high. Preparations are being made.

Fareeha isn’t supposed to know any of this, but since the fight with her mother, she’s been sleeping on Jesse’s sofa. Jesse mostly sleeps with Gabe anyway.

The Swiss base is evacuated the day before Fareeha’s birthday. Few operatives are left by the time the actual evacuation orders were given; most had been sent out on counterintelligence missions across the globe.

Jesse finds Fareeha right after the order is given.

“No time to explain,” he says. “We gotta go, princess.”

“I know what’s going on,” Fareeha huffs.

“Then go find your mom and git,” Jesse says. Fareeha opens her mouth to protest but Jesse shoves a messily wrapped package at her. She eyes him suspiciously. “I ain’t gonna hear it. Here - early birthday present. Open it.”

She does so. It’s a handgun much like Jesse’s - sans the spur, anyway. It has a little Blackwatch logo on the handle. Fareeha turns it over in her hands then looks up at Jesse.

“Don’t let your mom see it,” he says. “But it’s from me  _ and  _ Gabe.”

That gets a smile out of her. She gives Jesse a squeeze. “Thanks.”

“Don’t need to thank me. I mean it when I said git. Your mom’s looking for you.”

“What about you?”

“Special secret Blackwatch stuff. Don’t you worry about me. Keep yourself safe.”

=-=-=

Fareeha doesn’t say anything to her mother, just gets in the back of their shuttle and sulks. Ana doesn’t even attempt to break the ice. She flies them north in silence. Fareeha watches through the window as the icy landscape passes by beneath them. Something catches her eye.

“Mom!” she says suddenly. “There’s a shuttle down there!”

=-=-=

The crash site is still smoking when Ana lands; it’s a fresh crash. It looks like two large shuttles had collided. Ana lands the shuttle a good distance away, hidden by a dip in the snowy mountains. Fareeha peeks around the shuttle door.

“Stay in the shuttle, Fareeha,” Ana says, slinging her rifle over her shoulder.

“But -”

“I said  _ stay _ .”

Ana disappears. Fareeha sits just inside the door, drawing her knees up to her chest for a good sulk. The sound of gunfire echoes off the snowy peaks. Fareeha scrambles up.

“Mom?” she calls out. She doesn’t really expect a response, but it’s no less worrying when she doesn’t get one. She dithers. How much angrier can her mom actually get with her?

Fareeha pulls the gun that Jesse gave her from her waistband and hops down into the snow. She keeps low to the ground - like Uncle Gabe taught her - and heads toward the sounds.

When she clears the ridge, it’s easy to see that it had been an ambush. Fareeha sees Overwatch logos on the bodies scattered and bleeding in the snow. She hesitates, her gun hand shaking. This isn’t something she had ever experienced before. Her eyes search for her mother, but she can’t make her out among the bodies.

A flutter catches the corner of her eye. Fareeha turns toward it, bringing her gun up again. She realizes with a start that it’s Angela - Dr. Ziegler in her Valkyrie suit. Fareeha had only heard about it, never seen it in action. The suit has wings like an angel. Angela flies to each of the bodies, bending over them to check for life signs. Fareeha watches, entranced, until another movement catches her attention.

“ANGELA!” Fareeha shouts, hurtling over the lip of the ridge and flinging herself toward Angela just as a swarm of hostile agents appear from behind the crashed shuttles. Angela’s head snaps up at the sound of Fareeha’s voice then back around to the advancing agents. Without a second thought, Fareeha squeezes off several shots from her handgun. Two of the agents drop. Fareeha crashes into Angela.

“What - Fareeha -”

“Move back!” Fareeha shouts again, firing off another couple of shots from her handgun. She feels Angela duck behind her and then something warm and tingly spreads from the small of her back outwards. She glances back at the doctor.

“I’m right beside you,” Angela says. Fareeha gives her the briefest of nods then focuses all of her attention on the oncoming agents.

She feels stronger, faster - her gun feels like it’s supercharged. The hostile agents drop around them. If they get too close, Fareeha resorts to her hands and feet, like her mother taught her. She faintly registers that some agents much further away are falling into the snow, but is wholly focused on keeping herself and Angela safe.

Fareeha doesn’t see the last agent until it’s too late. She leaps again, putting herself between the agent and Angela one last time. The bullet rips through the meat of her side and she raises her gun but the agent is already falling. Fareeha collapses into the snow. Angela sails in on actual wings and Fareeha laughs. It hurts.

“Angel?” she asks. She can feel the blood trickling through her snow suit, sticky and hot against the cold of the snow. She doesn't want to take her eyes off Angela. She doesn't want to see the blood. 

“You gave me the idea,” Angela says. “Now don’t move.”

“I want to tell you something.”

“You can tell me later. It will only hurt a moment longer.”

Fareeha lets a breath out and it comes out in a wheeze. Her vision’s going swimmy, dark around the edges. Angela is so bright it hurts her eyes. 

“Am I going to die?”

“Heroes never die, Fareeha.”

=-=-=

Fareeha wakes in Overwatch’s northern-most base. It’s cold and outdated, and the blankets are scratchy. She stirs, feeling something pull in her side. She tries to lift her hand, but it’s laced with someone else’s. When she turns her head, she expects to see Jesse. She’s confused when she sees Angela.

“I told you,” she said softly. Fareeha’s brow furrows in confusion. “Heroes never die.”

Fareeha looks down at their hands. Angela starts to pull away but Fareeha won’t let her; she tightens her hand and Angela stops trying to pull away. 

“I wanted to tell you something,” Fareeha says. Angela meets her gaze, looking nervous. She nods. Fareeha takes a deep breath. “I’ve had a crush on you forever.”

Angela blinks, then laughs. She puts her other hand over her mouth to stifle her giggles. Fareeha feels her heart sinking. Angela must see the change in her expression because she leans in close.

“I’m sorry - I don’t mean to laugh. It’s just - I thought I was imagining it,” Angela says.

“Oh,” Fareeha says, unsure of how to respond. Angela’s hand comes up and brushes some of Fareeha’s hair off her forehead. It’s a gentle, tender gesture. “Oh,” Fareeha says again, softer this time. Angela nods. Fareeha wonders if she'll get another chance like this. “Can I - I’d like to kiss you.”

“You shouldn’t move too much,” Angela says. Fareeha’s face falls again. Before Fareeha can die of embarrassment, Angela leans the rest of the way down and presses a warm, chaste kiss to Fareeha’s mouth.

Her heart soars. She thinks that it was all worth it after all.

“Oh - shit.”

Angela pulls away and Fareeha looks around for her gun to shoot the intruder. Uncle Gabe is standing in the doorway, holding his Blackwatch beanie between his hands. Color is spreading over Angela’s cheeks.

“It’s quite alright, Commander Reyes,” Angela says, her voice high. “Fareeha is well on the mend.”

“Right. Uh. Resting, right? I’ll just - yeah. I’ll come back later.”

Uncle Gabe disappears as silently as he came. Angela lets out a nervous giggle. Her cheeks are bright red. Fareeha reaches up to bring her closer again. 


End file.
